


saccharine

by catpoop



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Background Reed900 - Freeform, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, One Shot, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: Hank and Connor need to keep their relationshipoutof the office- ch.1: Hank has a new mug.- ch.2: RK900 disapproves of Hank's snacking.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this adorable [art](https://twitter.com/16rdlv/status/1279867646406569985) i saw this morning!

Tina notices it first, because she’s always had a liking for pink things, and because in comparison to the rest of the mess on Hank’s desk, it stands out like a beacon. She leans away from the bar table in the break room to point, and Gavin spots it immediately.

He squints. “Dog… dad?”

Tina nods. “With a heart.” There’s a pink heart between the bubbly letters, replacing the ‘o’ in dog, and Gavin can only frown.

“Huh.” He doesn’t know what to make of it. “Maybe Connor picked it out.”

At that, they both turn to look at Connor’s desk. It had quickly become a carefully-cultivated chaos after the revolution, and it’s a wonder the android can get anything done when he’s elbow-to-elbow with five decorative mugs, three pencil holders, and two vases, filled to the brim with plastic flowers. 

Gavin thinks about the mugs he’s knocked to the ground every time he shifted an inch, and feels a distinct envy as he watches Connor skilfully move around his desk. 

“Didn’t think Hank was the type for pink stuff.”

“Neither.”

Gavin had always assumed Hank was a gruff and traditionally manly kind of guy, back when he had a crush on him and before Hank’s life had done a 180. He supposes the ‘D♡G DAD’ mug on Hank’s desk is really the least surprising thing he’s done, but Gavin likes to make fun of people whenever possible. 

He doesn’t get the chance to slip in a rude comment before Tina compliments Hank on the mug.

“Oh thanks,” Hank grunts. “Uh – Connor got it for me.”

No surprise about that. Ignoring the conversation they’re having, Gavin squints at Hank from half a bullpen away, and frowns at the strange flush that has overtaken the man. Odd. It briefly disappears from view as Hank takes a sip from said mug, before the pair of them lock eyes. Gavin sneers sharply at him before turning back to his terminal. _Loser._

Still, Gavin thinks, it’d be _kinda_ cool if someone got him novelty mugs.

The thought doesn’t cross his mind again until four days later, when Connor walks into the department in just a t-shirt and pants, having ditched the suit about as quickly as he adopted Hank’s fashion sense. That’s not the issue though, not this time.

It’s a pink shirt, with white lettering on it, and Gavin blinks incredulously at the bubbly font. ‘PUPPY♡’, in all caps.

Connor must catch his dumbfounded gaping, because he stops a few feet away. “Yes, Detective?”

“What’s with the, uh –” Gavin waves a hand, “– shirt?”

“Oh!” Connor looks down at himself, an elegant moue of surprise creasing his face. “I like dogs.” He smiles at Gavin, and the man can only nod hesitantly.

“Right…”

“Well, good day,” Connor nods, before walking to his desk. 

Gavin frowns.

It takes him another three hours before he spots the mug again, then whips his head around to stare at Connor.

“Oh _fuck_ …” He drags a hand down his face. _“Tina!”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes enjoy

On his 192nd routine scan of the precinct, RK900 is drawn away from his 190th critical evaluation of Gavin’s spine-breaking posture by his predecessor walking from the break room to Hank’s desk. Connor shakes his ass a little as he nears, and RK900 scowls.

“Here,” Connor says, and deposits a small Tupperware box of cut-up fruit in front of Hank. He receives a gruff word of thanks in response.

It’s a varied range of fresh fruit – RK900 spots blueberries and pineapples and plums, and he suspects the man hadn’t prepared it himself. A visualisation of Connor efficiently skinning and coring a pineapple pops onto his HUD, and RK900 sneers. What a laughable application of his capabilities.

It’s definitely… _deviant_ of him to care about the man’s wellbeing, but in comparison, RK900 finds it quite entertaining to run preconstructions of the kind of physical and mental damage Gavin Reed is causing to himself with his current choices in life.

The man shifts an inch in his seat, and moves to hold his head at such an angle that should cause neck strain in less than a minute. He proceeds to sit like that for the next hour. It’s a miracle.

By then, RK900 has had the opportunity to run another several dozen routine scans. It keeps him busy. It keeps him feeling secure. Nothing out of the ordinary has revealed itself, bar the way Connor decides it would be appropriate to fork-feed Hank the chunks of fruit after blatantly abandoning his own workstation, but RK900 tries to ignore it as best as he can.

He focuses on the way Gavin’s throat bobs around his coffee and takes a deep, unnecessary breath.

This focus snaps like a stressed-out, _infuriated_ thread not long after, when Connor finds it necessary to remove a chilled bottle of pineapple juice from the communal fridge and place it on Hank’s desk. A little smile quirks his mouth, and stays on his face as he watches Hank take a sip, perched unprofessionally on the man’s desk and swinging his feet. One of them definitely contacts Hank’s shin, and RK900 promptly excuses himself from the room. 

He needs a break.

But removing himself from the scene hardly makes a difference, not with the perfect recall he has. RK900 sends Connor a message over their connection. 

-> _Meet me in the bathroom._

He has to put an end to this, once and for all.

Connor shows up exactly a minute later, looking calm and unruffled despite the unexplained request. “Yes, RK900?”

The bathroom is empty, but RK900 lowers the volume of his voice regardless. “I need you to keep the foreplay out of the office.”

The programmed cadence of his voice leaves him sounding angry and not much else, while Connor modulates his voice into one of surprise. His eyebrows lift in appropriate accompaniment.

“What do you mean?”

RK900 hadn’t been angry before, but he’s angry _now_. “You know what I mean.”

“I apologise, I don’t. Can you elaborate?” Connor smiles politely at him, and RK900 forces out a sigh.

“Can you stop trying to improve the flavour of Lieutenant Anderson’s semen while we are at work. We do not have taste receptors.”

“Oh no,” Connor shakes his head, still smiling, “I do! I installed them recently – you should try them, RK. They are amazing.” He does not confirm or deny RK900’s statement.

“Not interested.”

“That’s your loss, then.” He tilts his head, before bidding RK900 a silent nod of farewell, and slips out of the bathroom as quickly as he had appeared.

RK900 thinks about calling him back to continue the conversation – and feels his shoulders physically sag. Hank is still sipping at his juice when he re-emerges. 

As a compromise, he completely shuts off his visual light receptors for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://swummeng-geys.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/hashtag_yikes)


End file.
